


One Shots of Fluff and Monsters

by willhenreeeee



Category: The Monstrumologist Series - Rick Yancey
Genre: Fluff, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-29
Updated: 2014-06-29
Packaged: 2018-02-06 18:56:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,036
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1868736
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/willhenreeeee/pseuds/willhenreeeee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just a collection of Monstrumologist one-shots I wrote for a writing challenge. Mostly happy, though there's one or two that have depressing implications. Mainly because the series is horribly depressing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	One Shots of Fluff and Monsters

In Which Lilly is Annoying and Cryptic 

Lilly smiled down at me, her black curls falling out of her bun.  
"Well are you coming up William Henry?" she called, using her usual smug tone.  
I could feel the vertigo by simply looking up at it. The roof of the Bate's home -or should I say mansion- seemed to tower over the rest of the houses on that block. I swallowed hard.  
"I don't think I can climb up, Lilly..."  
The older girl went into a fit of giggles, and I could feel a blush creeping up my neck.  
"You don't have to climb all the way up, you silly, stupid boy, just go to my bedroom window!"  
"Oh. Right."  
I felt foolish as I ran into the house, through the living room (where the doctor gave me an odd look from his perch on the overstuffed sofa), and up the stairs (nearly knocking over a maid carrying a basket full of dirty laundry).  
I was breathing heavily by the time I reached Lilly's room, and almost had to drag myself to her window. I leaned against the sill, frowning when I didn't see her face peeking in at me. I opened up the window, feeling the warm summer air blow into my face once again. Suddenly, I felt a yank on my shirt collar, and I cried out as I was firmly pulled onto the roof. I quickly looked towards my assailant, only to see Lilly's dazzling blue eyes. She beamed.  
"Well, isn't the view just PERFECT?" she asked.  
I looked down, a wave of nausea coming over me.  
"I meant over here!" Lilly groaned, pulling my head up firmly.  
The skyline of the city was clearly visible from high up, sparkling and beautiful in the low evening light. I felt the same wonder that befell me on my first ride through the city, a kind of childish enchantment that filled me with pure joy.  
"Is it not lovely?"  
I looked over at Lilly, who wasn't looking back; she had her eyes glued to the city, her face full of as much wonder as my own.  
I simply nodded, and tried to slide myself into a better position. In that, I felt something grainy underneath my hand. Curious, I lifted my palm to discover it was now evenly coated in a golden dust. I furrowed my brow.  
"What's this?"  
The question had barely left my mouth before Lilly had my hand in her grasp. After thoroughly examining it, she placed it back down on the roof.  
"Stardust," she claimed.  
I held back a chuckle.  
"That doesn't exist, though."  
Lilly snorted. "It does up here. Everything exists up here. It's… magic."  
"Your roof is magical?" I asked.  
The older girl laughed again.  
"William, I swear every time I see you, you get even more stupid!"  
I wanted her to clarify, but she didn’t. Instead, she just turned her eyes back to the skyline.

In Which Von Helrung Asks A Question

"If you had a magical power, what would it be?"  
The question froze everyone at the table, except for Pellinore, who looked at Von Helrung in concern.  
"What kind of a question is that?" he asked, unable to keep the irritated tone out of his voice.  
His old master shrugged. "It was simply a hypothetical question."  
"I like it!" said Lilly. "I for one would have the ability to fly, so I could see the whole city whenever I wanted! Not even this city, mind you, Paris, London, Vienna- I could fly to any city whenever I'd like."  
Von Helrung smiled, and looked at his other niece. "Emily?"  
Emily frowned thoughtfully, and placed down her fork. "I think I would shapeshift, be able to become anyone I wanted to be. I could become someone new every day. A librarian, a nurse, a farmer… endless possibilities."  
Pellinore suppressed a groan and placed his chin in his hand. How did their conversation become so ridiculous?  
"Will?"  
Will Henry looked up from his food. "I... don't know."  
He suddenly cringed, possibly from Lilly pinching him under the table.  
"Fine… think I would be very smart. So none of you could call me stupid anymore. And I would become an inventor; like Edison, and make things that could change the world."  
The doctor looked over at his assistant, who gave him a half-hearted smile. "What about you, sir?"  
Pellinore shook his head. "That question is pointless."  
"That's why it's called a hypothetical question, mein fruend." von Helrung said gently.  
"...Fine." the Doctor sat up.  
"I would have the power of telepathy. I could call upon Will Henry in a way he could hear me every single time, so I won't have to strain my vocal chords."  
The whole table laughed, except Will, who had buried his face in his hands.

In Which the Warthrops Act Normal for Five Minutes

Sunlight came through the small attic window, dancing upon the sheets of the bed. Seven year old Pellinore stirred, moaning not only due to the sun beating down on his face, but a sinus headache that was causing the backs of his eyes to feel like they were slowly being crushed. With a grunt he sat up, stirring up the usual dust and cells that enjoy dancing in sunbeams. Smacking his lips, he peered out the window. Though this only got him a view of the alley and the side of the house next door, to the far left he could see a man coming out of his home to shovel, and two boys about his age already out playing in the snow. A jealous feeling crept up on him, but was quickly overpowered by a fresh burst of pain in his head. Softly moaning, he laid back down, only to see his father leering over him.  
The man didn't tell him good morning, nor ask him how he slept, he simply pressed his hand against his son's forehead briefly.  
"Your fever's gone down." he said matter-of-factly.  
Pellinore nodded, and to his surprise, Alistair Warthrop had sat down on the edge of the bed.  
"Your mother is making tea," his tone stayed pretty much the same, though an edge of softness had crept into it. "Would you like some?"  
Pellinore nodded again, then coughed into his elbow.  
Alistair patted his son on the leg before rising, nearly causing the boy to jump out of his skin.  
“You know I hate to see you like this, Pellinore.”  
Pellinore nodded, not knowing what else to say.  
“I must find away to make you much less prone to whatever illnesses are going around the neighborhood.”  
The trapdoor swung open, and the friendly face of Margaret Warthrop poked through.  
“Breakfast’s ready,” she said. “How’s my Pellibaby?”  
Her son groaned and slid under the covers.  
“His fever’s gone down.”  
“Good! Does he want some tea?”  
“Mmhmm. Oh, and Maggie dear, what do you think we could do to keep Pellinore from getting sick so often?”  
“...Keep ‘im inside all the time.”  
The woman let out a boisterous laugh and slipped back downstairs.  
“That’s what you already do!” Pellinore wanted to cry, but he kept his mouth shut.  
“Very helpful!” Alistair called after his wife dryly.

In Which Will Henry is Enchanted by Waterlilies

It was a lovely Spring day, the kind of day where normal people went out for walks with their lovers while the children played stickball outside of their schoolhouses.  
But normal was not for Will Henry. He himself sat on a muddy bank, writing notes as his master observed a long, spiny fish he had yanked from the water a few minutes before.  
"Specimen appears to be a juvenile, and measures 10 inches long. It's teeth have not fully come in yet, though in the front..."  
The doctor's monotone speech bored him (per usual), and Will found his eyes gravitating to the pond's surface. It was lovely with the sun dancing on it. It almost looked like glass. A sudden plop caused his eyes to dart to a plant a frog had just jumped off of.  
A waterlily.  
Of course, this automatically pulled him into thoughts of Lillian Bates, with her sapphire eyes and knowing smile. Let alone her seemingly steam-powered mouth. But it was a lovely mouth, just across from his. Close enough to kiss.  
"Well, will you kiss me, William?" it giggled.  
Why yes! He leaned forward...  
"Will Henry, what the devil are you doing?"  
The doctor's voice pierced Will's fantasy, immediately causing him to topple into the water with a cry of surprise. He felt the notebook being ripped out of his hand, and wiggled onto his back. A face loomed above his, though it wasn't the smiling one of Lillian Trumbl Bates, but the furious one of Pellinore Xavier Warthrop.  
"What was that?!" he boomed.  
"I suppose this is how I die..." Will thought with dread.  
"L-Lilly, sir," he stammered aloud. "I pictured she was in front of me, and wanted me to kiss her, so foolishly I tried, and... I'm sorry!"  
To Will's surprise, the doctor's face started to contort. He let out a light snort, his nose crinkled, and a smile seemed to be tugging at the corners of his mouth. Then, as if by the will of some mysterious force, he laughed. Will had never heard the Doctor laugh like this. Maybe a chuckle in passing, but it was usually dry or out of courtesy. And he always laughed at his own (rare) jokes, but never to this degree. This was a full on booming laugh, the kind that could bring a man to his knees and tears into his eyes. A laugh that Will would expect to hear from Meister Abraham, but never Dr. Warthrop. Will expected him to stop, yell "FOOLED YOU!", then proceed to beat him over the head with the nearest blunt object. But he did not. He kept laughing, his hands on his knees, his face beet red. Will stared dumbfounded at his hysterical master.  
Finally, the Doctor stopped, gasping for air.  
"It appears," he finally said, "that I must keep you far away from waterlilies."

In Which Lilly Explains the Miracle of Life

Lilly was sitting in her room, reading something her Uncle had given her, when a knock sounded from the door.  
"Yes?" she asked, quickly shoving the book under her pillow.  
The door opened a crack, revealing the face of her younger brother, Reginald.  
"May I come in?" he asked.  
"Of course!" Lilly said, an innocent smile forming on her face.  
Reggie walked in, shutting the door behind him. "I have a question."  
"What is it?"  
Lilly didn't even break a sweat. Someday she was going to be the world's greatest Monstrumologist, what question could she not answer?  
"Where do babies come from?"  
Well.  
"...Pardon?"  
"Where do babies come from?"  
"I know, but WHAT?"  
"I just want to know!" whined Reggie.  
"Then ask mother!" Lilly huffed. She knew the answer, of course, just she would be the last person you could ask to explain sex and birth to a small child.  
"I asked mother, then she told me to ask father, and he told me to ask the cook, who told me to ask you!"  
Lilly sighed bitterly. Those monsters!  
"Fine. Sit down, and I shall explain to you where babies come from."  
Reggie smiled and sat crossed legged on the floor, his hands folded in his lap. Lilly could never tell him the truth, not at this age. So she, God forgive her, would lie. Yes! The perfect plan!  
"Well, when a man and a woman fall in love and get married, and they want to have a child, they must wire a doctor."  
"A doctor? Like a Monstrumologist?"  
"No, a doctor named... Rigby. Who lives in Spain."  
"What does he do?"  
"Well, when he gets the telegram, he asks for a letter explaining in detail what kind of child they want. Then once he gets the letter, he makes it."  
"How does he make the baby?"  
Lilly thought for a second. How would one create a child without having sex?  
"He… he makes mechanical children!"  
Reggie gasped. "Really?!"  
"Yes! He makes a mechanical child, covers it with skin and hair, then sends it to the parents!"  
"...Does that mean I'm mechanical?"  
Lilly resisted the urge to laugh. "Yes. You are a mechanical boy."  
Reggie looked shocked. "Is EVERYONE mechanical!?"  
"Yes! You and I, mother and father, Uncle and the cook, Dr. Warthrop and William Henry, even the President! All of them are mechanical."  
"But how does he make so many mechanical people?!" Reggie said, frantic at this point.  
"He's immortal. He's immortal so he can make mechanical people forever."  
Reggie sat stone still for a moment, then promptly stood up and ran out of the room, crying "MOTHER, MOTHER, I'M A MECHANICAL BOY!"  
Lilly rolled around on her bed in a fit of laughter.

In Which Old Meister Abram Scares Everyone 

"Your Uncle is getting old," Will Henry said to Lilly Bates one Autumn morning.  
She scoffed. "Nonsense! My Uncle may be old, but he is not GETTING old. He can still do anything!"  
"Well it's not like he's as limber as he used to be…" Will said softly.  
Lilly snorted and stood up, grabbing Will's wrist and pulling him down the stairs.  
"Ow! Wait, I didn't mean it! I take it back! Please don't hurt me..."  
Lilly pulled him into the living room, where her Uncle and Will's doctor sat discussing what was supposed be Monstrumology, but could honestly bleed into anything (much to Pellinore's disdain).  
"William says you're getting old, Uncle!"  
Von Helrung chuckled, placing his tea on the coffee table. "Is that so?"  
"Yes!" Lilly exclaimed.  
The doctor raised an eyebrow. "Von Helrung is just as capable as he was at your age, Will Henry."  
"That's what I was saying!" Lilly cried.  
Von Helrung stood up, rubbing his knees. "Will Henry is right, I am growing old."  
Everyone seemed taken aback, even Will.  
"Nonsense, Meister Abram!" said Pellinore.  
"Oh no, mein frund. I'm so old, I could keel over and die at any minute!"  
And with that, he collapsed to the floor.  
Lilly screamed, and Pellinore immediately jumped to his feet, spilling tea all over the sofa.  
Will simply stared, his face snow white. Oh, how he regretted saying anything!  
Just as the Doctor was kneeling at von Helrung's side, the old Monstrumologist sat up, laughing.  
"Oh, I gave you all quite a scare, didn't I?! I feel like John!"  
Pellinore glared at Will Henry, who got the message: one should never tell a Monstrumologist that he is growing old.

In Which Lilly and Will Make A Circle

"A circle, Will Henry, I said a CIRCLE!"  
"But this is a circle, Lilly!"  
"No, you idiot, that's an OVAL!"  
Will sighed. This was a complete waste of salt anyway.  
"If we don't want to get possessed or haunted for eternity, it has to be a circle!"  
"Why are dead people so specific anyway!?" cried Will in frustration.  
"Because they have nothing better to do! Now make a circle, SNAP TO!"  
Great. Now she was becoming the doctor!  
The way Lilly saw it, she had the seance set up perfectly: a table covered in white cloth, set with candles at 4 different points. At the center was a paper with neat cursive letters on it. Her neighbor had said the spirit would move the glass set in its center to spell out its response. I was the best way to preform a seance when you lacked a medium. She had also heard that you had to surround the summoning area with a circle of salt, which her friend seemed to be terrible at.  
"Now it looks like a deformed polygon."  
Will threw the salt down in frustration. "What does it matter, ghosts don't exist anyway!"  
Lilly scoffed. "Fine! Become possessed by an evil spirit for all I care! But when it launches you out the window, don't come calling for me!"  
Will glared at her, and she glared back.  
"If you're so good at making circles, do it yourself!"  
"I shall!"  
Lilly snatched the salt away and stepped carefully around the table, frowning when she couldn't make a circle.  
"See?" snapped Will.  
Lilly frowned. "Well, I suppose it is very hard to make a circle around a square table that's so close to the wall."

In Which Pellinore Warthrop Sneezes A Lot

Pellinore sneezed.  
Again.  
And again.  
So persistently, in fact, that his lover felt like plugging up his nostrils with a handkerchief and calling it a day.  
"What has you so sick?" she asked, turning to face him.  
"I don't know." he said, immediately sneezing again once he finished.  
Muriel rolled her eyes. This was going to be a pain in her arse.  
"Let me see your face, darling."  
Before Pellinore could respond, she had his face in her hands, and was closely examining it.  
"You seem to be being irritated by something."  
"Yes. A woman named Muriel Barnes."  
Muriel snorted and pushed him away. "I meant in the air. There's something in the air that's making fluids leak out of nearly every cavity in your face."  
Pellinore smiled. "Pollen, I should think. Now let's move along."  
Muriel shook her head. "Not until I find out what it is."  
The young doctor rolled his eyes. "How did I ever end up with such a stubborn woman?"  
"It appears you got lucky."  
She turned on her heel, immediately scouring for any flower, bushel, or grass blade that could be causing her Pellinore to be sick. She hated it when he was sick. Not because she felt sorry for him, so much that he whined. And it was quite hard to sleep next to a man who whined so much.  
She eventually came back with a handful of plants, but none that she held under his nose got a reaction. Then, something caught her eye: cherry blossoms.  
They were standing next to a row of blooming cherry trees, blowing petals into the air at each gust of wind.  
Muriel plucked one and held it up to Pellinore.  
"How about this one?"  
He took it, holding it under his nose. "Alright, but I don't see how-"  
His words were cut off by a sneeze.  
"That's it!" Muriel cheered.  
Pellinore sighed and wiped a stray tear from under his eye. "Wonderful. Now may we continue?"  
The young woman furrowed her eyebrows, then grabbed his arm and pulled him across the street.  
"Yes," she said, taking his elbow. "We may continue."

In Which Reggie Bates Follows His Dreams

Reggie was absolutely fascinated by street performers. He loved to see jugglers, magicians, musicians, and anybody who was willing to show their talent on a public street, really.  
But there were no street performers he loved more than the geishas. He could tell you that they came to the park every Sunday from 10am to 6pm, and they would do wonderful dances to beautiful music all day long. He admired everything about them: their clothes, their hair, their make-up. He even once got a hold of a stray hairpiece, and held onto it until he found the exact girl it belonged to. There were four, but he didn't know their names. All he knew of them was one wore pink, one wore purple, one wore green, and one wore orange. He loved them, but not because he fancied them. He loved them because he thought they were amazing, and looked up to them. And it was a warm Summer's day in 1892 that he decided he wanted to be a geisha. He announced this to a room that contained his parents, sister, and Uncle.  
His mother looked flustered.  
His sister looked amused.  
His Uncle smiled warmly.  
And his father promptly took him outside of the kitchen and clipped him on the ear.  
But the reactions of his family didn't stop Reggie; he went up to his Uncle's trusted friend one Sunday evening, and said "Can you get me what a geisha wears?"  
Pellinore waved him off (he liked children about as much as he liked having his ego challenged), but told the boy he would "see what he can do" before going to von Helrung and suggesting several mental care facilities.  
Reggie, however, got his way. He got his hairpieces and sandals and a blue floral kimono, which made him the happiest boy in all of New York. The less happy boys in New York got themselves to his level by kicking his arse. But he persisted, and got his make up as well, which his sister proudly did.  
Mostly because she had Will Henry test the products first.  
("You're a geisha too!" Reggie had told him).  
By the time he was ready, it was January, but the geishas weren't there in winter, so he had to wait until April.  
When April rolled around, he ran up to the geishas and said "I shall dance with you today!"  
The women were amused, and a bit befuddled by a boy being a geisha, and corrected him that he would be a Taikomochi.  
(If this was the modern age, he would've said "Whatever", but back then he just shrugged).  
And that is how Reggie Bates made his father have a stroke.

And also became a drag queen.

In Which Pellinore is Afraid

"Will Henry!" a voice hissed.  
I could feel a hand shaking my shoulder, and I groaned. My eyes blinked open to see the doctor's face inches from mine, his eyes wild in a strange emotion... fear. He never allowed himself to fear things. He's claimed fear was his enemy!  
"Were you asleep?" he asked.  
There were a million sarcastic answers on the tip of my tongue, but if there was any time the doctor could unleash a verbal lashing, it was this. So I simply nodded.  
He snorted. "I suppose you didn't hear the noise, then."  
Oh Lord, here we go with the bumps in the night. He heard them all the time, every hour or I would get "WILL HENREEEEE, did you hear that?!" He always made sure to shout, even when I started sleeping in his bed. I suppose when you're half awake and used to living alone, every single noise is an intruder or other danger.  
"No, I did not."  
"Well I heard it, clear as day. It sounded like a pot falling out of a cabinet!"  
"It was probably a mouse."  
"A mouse strong and intelligent enough to open up a cabinet and push a pot to the floor?"  
"A rat, then."  
The Monstrumologist let out a groan and threw the covers off of himself.  
"No, Will Henry, it has to be a person!"  
"I doubt someone would rob us, Pellinore."  
“I am a fairly wealthy man, Will Henry. And have much important research on Monstrumology as well..." he gasped and shot up. "My God, what if someone is after my research!?"  
"I doubt anyone from town would want your research."  
"You're right, it's probably someone from Boston or New York."  
The doctor pulled out his revolver. His eyes were wild with fear, but now determination as well.  
"Snap to, Will Henry, we have a thief to catch!"  
I looked at my watch, then slid out of bed with a groan.

In Which Pellinore Reminisces 

Pellinore sighed and rested his chin on his hand. Where in God's name was James? He was supposed to be there an hour ago.  
"I am not getting any younger, Mr. Henry!" the doctor said to no one.  
As if on cue, he heard the front door open, and feet pound down the hallway. Pellinore stepped out of his study, nearly getting plowed over by James, who looked like he just witnessed an accident.  
"Dr. Warthrop!" He cried, grabbing his employer's shirt. "Mary, she's in labor!"  
Pellinore recoiled. He was a Monstrumologist, not a midwife!  
"Take her to the hospital," he said calmly.  
"I would, but I don't have that kind of time! You're a doctor, right?!"  
Well, he couldn't expect James not to know he had never delivered a child in his life, considering that he hadn't told the older man his true profession yet.  
"Alright, bring her in here."  
A flood of relief washed over James' face, and he rushed out the door, returning a few minutes later with Mary.  
Pellinore braced himself for the laboring woman, knowing the amount of pain she was in would certainly affect the way she treated him. As in, make it worse. She glared at him, insisting to James that she shouldn't didn't want to have that “rat bastard” deliver her child, but James brought her upstairs anyway. Rat bastard? Pellinore stiffened. This wouldn't be a pleasant experience, not even for the baby. Grabbing his field kit, he ran upstairs.  
James had laid Mary down on the bed, and whether her face was contorted in pain or she was glaring at him, Pellinore couldn't tell. Her husband was wiping her forehead, saying soothing words, while she snapped and swore at him. It was like watching someone try to pet a rabid dog. Pellinore sighed and did his work, the time being blended by Mary's screams, James' sweet nothings, and the sound of his own heartbeat. Then, the bundle of noise was broken by a cry. Not one from Mary this time, but from a baby… boy, as Pellinore noted. Throughout the 5 hours, the doctor imagined himself tossing the baby to his mother, offering a congratulations, then retreating back to his study. But, something made him freeze. The baby had stopped crying, and was looking at him.  
Just... looking at him.  
Pellinore studied the the infant, with his father's blue eyes and mother's pale brown hair. He smiled as he saw the baby wasn't bald, and was almost tempted to dry the hair, so it would look like a chick's. This boy would look like a baby chicken. Pellinore almost laughed at the thought. He was tugged back, however, by the snip of scissors as James cut the umbilical cord.  
"May I have my son?" he asked.  
Oh.  
The reality of the situation crashed down upon Pellinore, and he handed James the baby with a quick apology.  
James smiled and ran a thumb over his son's face, before handing him to Mary.  
"The laboring lady gets to pick the name," James said cheerfully.  
"William," she said softly. "Little William Henry."  
"What about his middle name?" asked James.  
It took Pellinore a moment to realize the words were directed at him.  
"...James," he said.  
Mary snorted, but his assistant smiled, and leaned down towards his wife and newborn son.  
"William James Henry, you're going to love Pellinore Xavier Warthrop.”  
“Like Hell he will!” Mary shouted.

Pellinore left his thoughts of the past and looked over at the young man sleeping next to him.  
If only she knew. 

In Which Will and Lilly Have A Race

"I shall get to the top first!" Lilly proclaimed one day.  
They were sitting in the backyard, her and Will, under a large maple tree that appeared to touch the sky with its highest branches.  
Will, thinking of the time he had climbed that huge ice-coated evergreen, smiled. "No, that is going to be me."  
Lilly scoffed. "Was that a challenge?!"  
"Yes."  
The two teenagers sat in silence for a moment, until Lilly got up.  
"Alright. Winner gets the last bit of cocoa for hot chocolate, and the loser has to sit in horse dung for two minutes."  
"That doesn't seem very fair."  
Lilly touched her chin. "Chocolate as a reward and shit as a punishment? I think that's quite fair."  
Will rolled his eyes. "Fine. You have a deal."  
Lilly shook his hand, then within the blink of an eye had rolled up her skirts and climbed onto the first branch. Will stared at her for a second, the sight of her smooth, pale legs catching him off guard. He stumbled into the tree, came to his senses, and followed his friend's lead. Within the span of 30 minutes they were almost to the top, in a fair tie. Lilly had realized this and was scrambling to get there first, while Will calmly stepped his way up. He suddenly heard a cry. Lilly had slipped, and was dangling, desperately trying to pull herself back up onto the branch. Will side-stepped around the trunk, and stood on the branch causing her trouble.  
"You'd better not gloat about this!" she growled.  
"Who would I have to gloat to?"  
He pulled the girl up onto the branch.  
"For once it's not me saving your arse," she sighed.  
"I honestly prefer it the other way around," Will shrugged.  
Lilly smiled.

In Which A Certain Canadian is Frustrated 

Sargent Hawk sat across from the legendary Doctor Alistair Warthrop- er, his son. But close enough, right? He knew his dear old mother would still have a mental breakdown if she saw him. "OH, you're just as handsome as Alistair!” she would gush, then feed him biscuits and pet that thick, tangled black mane he called hair. That's how his mother always reacted to meeting the people she told stories of, though. But now this man, this dirty man across from him, was denying everything he had known to exist!  
Vampires? No.  
Werewolves? No.  
Zombies? No!  
Hell, even Wendigos -the very thing they were hunting for- didn't exist, according to the legendary Warthropian son! So now, he was trying to come up with one thing, one measly little thing his mother hadn't lied about. After a few minutes of deep thought, he came up with it.  
"Elves!" he yelled.  
The Warthropian son looked up from hands, irritation written in every line and peak in his face.  
"Pardon?"  
Hawk pulled up the courage that wasn't destroyed by the glare, and said "Elves. Real or no?"  
The doctor scoffed. "Of course they're not real! What do you think this is, a damned fairy tale?!"  
Hawk looked into the fire, disappointed once again by the man his mother would throw on a bed any day. He then imagined a proud, beautiful woman with pointed ears and long strawberry colored hair riding in on a black stallion. She scooped up Hawk, and stuck her tongue out at Warthrop before they rode off into the bitter Canadian night together.  
That's not what happened, obviously.  
But that's how he wanted it to be.

In Which the Warthrops Act Normal for Five Minutes (Part 2)

What Margaret saw when she walked into the kitchen nearly made her drop her tea.  
Alistair, out of the basement and sitting at the table?!  
Praise God!  
"Good morning, darling," she said, a smile brushing across her lips.  
Alistair simply grunted, which was good enough for her.  
Mrs. Warthrop hustled across the small kitchen, grabbing a tin of scones she had picked up from the baker and setting it on the table.  
"Want one?"  
Alistair looked up from his book, and examined the raspberry pastries set before him. "I simply could not. They're your favorite."  
Margaret smiled. "I think I could spare one."  
The doctor snorted. "Are you kidding? You nearly cut Pellinore's hand off when he tried to take one of them."  
Mrs. Warthrop gave his arm a smack. "How dare you suggest I would hurt our son!"  
Her husband barely even acknowledged the blow. "I am merely stating a fact."  
Margaret sighed and sat across from him, taking one of the scones.  
"Speaking of Pellinore," he continued "I think you should stop telling him stories."  
The doctor's wife nearly choked on her pastry. "Pardon?!"  
"You heard what I said. No more stories. You're... you're giving him a misrepresentation of reality."  
Margaret snorted. "You're full of shit, Ally."  
"Physically impossible."  
Margaret, being used to the brick wall that was the man she married, laughed.  
"What?" he asked.  
"It's a figure of speech, love."  
"I'm aware. I'm joking with you. But still, my point is he will grow up to be a dreamer."  
"What is so bad about being a dreamer? He will write poetry when he grows up."  
"Yes, and then never land a proper job, like mine."  
"As if Monstrumology is a proper job!"  
"Poetry isn't either. He will become impoverished."  
"Then he shall find a lovely impoverished woman and have many impoverished children."  
"Yes, and he shall name them My, Mother, Told, Me, Too, Many, and Stories."  
Martha burst out laughing. "You're being ridiculous, Ally!"  
"Deep in your heart you know it's the truth!"  
"Even so, then his life will become a story!"  
"Yes, a cautionary tale."  
"A tale nonetheless."  
"He, his wife, and their... 7 children shall live on the corner of the street. They'll probably roll cigarettes for a living!"  
"At least we shall get to see our grandchildren everyday."  
"Yes," Alistair cracked a small smile.  
"Their names will be awkward, though. 'Mother, Mother stole my doll!'. Then Mother will cry, "You tell stories!", and she shall say 'okay!', then run off to tell her brother. Then Pellibaby and his wife will sit there and regret naming their children anything."  
The couple laughed loudly, attracting their son to the kitchen.  
Alistair quickly piped down, but Margaret kept giggling.  
"What's so funny?" asked Pellinore.  
"You, My, Mother, Told, Me, Too, Many, and Stories,” said his mother.  
Then his parents laughed once again.

In Which Will Asks for A Pet

"Sir, may I have a pet?"  
I didn't expect the question to shock the Monstrumologist as much as it did; he actually started, dropped his scalpel, and looked me dead in the eye.  
"What?"  
"I would like a pet."  
"Whatever for?"  
"Well, I think it'd be good to have one."  
The doctor let out a huff of breath. "What pet do you want, exactly?"  
"I was thinking of… a dog, perhaps?"  
"NO! Those things are so stupid and destructive, it would probably manage to knock over all of my specimen jars, eat their contents, vomit it all up, then eat that."  
“How about a cat, then?"  
"It would just ignore you. Probably lay around the stairs all day, waiting for us to trip over it and break our necks. That's what happened to the woman across the street, remember? She tripped over her pet cat while walking downstairs, and snapped her neck like a twig."  
I sighed. Was this really the game we were going to play?  
"A pig, then?"  
"They're disgusting. Once I saw one rolling around in manure. Would you like that as a pet, Will Henry? A pig covered in horse shit?"  
"No, sir... what about a goat?"  
"Those will eat anything! Eat us out of this house, no doubt."  
I was starting to get frustrated.  
"A horse?"  
"We have 3 of those!"  
"Yes, but they aren't pets!"  
"Yes they are!"  
"We use them for traveling!"  
"WILL HENRY, GO OUT AND LOVE YOUR PET HORSES, SNAP TO!"  
"FINE!"  
I stormed up the steps, stopping midway.  
Wait, what?  
I looked back down at the doctor, and could swear I saw a smile on his face.

In Which Pellinore Goes to Wonderland

Pellinore wasn't 100% sure of how John got him to join him on a walk to the Society. He had only been learning under von Helrung for 3 weeks, he needed to study! But alas, John had other ideas. John’s job that day was to deliver specimens (in the form of bones). He was given that duty so often, he started to just put whatever his package was in a small, wooden wagon and walk there, which only took him about an hour. He dragged Pellinore along for company, because talking to different people every 5 minutes was frankly a chore, and he'd rather have a constant companion. The other boy caved, only because he wanted to see the Society in all its glory. So, the two of them set off, John dragging the wagon and Pellinore walking alongside it. John seemed to be the one doing the talking, chatting it up about things that Pellinore couldn't care less about. Halfway through the walk, they came upon a young girl or about four, wearing a summer dress and picking dandelions. Pellinore didn't recognize her, but John smiled and bent down to her height.  
"Hullo, Carolyn! What are you up to?"  
Carolyn looked up, squinting against the sun. "Picking pretty flowers!" she chirped.  
"Ooo, how nice. Is your sister around?"  
The young girl nodded and pointed to another girl about Pellinore's age, whose back was to them. John unleashed his legendary smirk and walked over the the girl, who whipped around before he'd even gotten close. Pellinore was immediately astounded by her beauty; her long curls of auburn hair, deep green eyes, and face full of freckles.  
"Hullo, arsewipe," she greeted curtly.  
"Oh Muriel, so rude today!" John chuckled.  
"Well I still haven't forgiven you for putting my sister in that hole!"  
"She was Alice and she wanted to go to Wonderland, what could I do?"  
"Pretend?"  
"We did. It's not like the hole actually led to a different world!"  
The girl rolled her emerald eyes. "What do you even want?"  
"Oh, to introduce you to someone!" John grabbed his new friend by the sleeve of his shirt, who had barely let out a cry before he was face to face with Carolyn's sister.  
"Ah, well then. I'm Muriel Barnes," she said politely, holding out her hand.  
"M-Mister P-Pellinore Warthrop."  
The future Monstrumologist kissed her hand briefly, and quickly let it go out of fear she'd felt the sweat on his own. Muriel just giggled, and Pellinore felt his face get hot with a blush. Carolyn then ran over, saving the day.  
"Can I go with John?"  
Muriel thought for a moment, her eyebrows furrowed.  
"Oh, alright. As long as Mister Warthrop here promises to keep an eye on both of you."  
She winked, and Pellinore felt faint.  
"Yes!" her sister cried, then ran to the wagon.  
John smiled, and tipped his hat to Muriel. "May I see you tomorrow?"  
"Not even if I’m dead."  
John rolled his own eyes, and Pellinore couldn't help but smile.  
"Take care of my sister, please!" she said to Pellinore again.  
"Oh, I will, I mean... I promise. No.. no harm shall befall her, and she'll come back to as safe and sound as she was when-"  
John dragged his flustered friend back to the wagon and Alice in Wonderland.

In Which Will Finally Kisses A Girl

Will was, frankly, extremely bored. Although society meetings weren't particularly renowned for their fun and excitement. He was thinking about sneaking away, when Lilly popped up next to him, all curls and raw energy. It reminded him of last year, when she had dragged him off to the society's museum.  
Oh, and nearly got him killed by a hermaphroditic worm.  
Wary, the boy lifted his head. "What is it this time?"  
Lilly sighed. "Oh Will; I fear you don't trust me."  
"That's because I don't," Will hissed.  
"Somebody's grumpy..." Lilly teased.  
Will ignored her, trying to focus on the doctor, who was getting cross with a Bulgarian man that had a well trimmed mustache.  
"Are you even listening?!" Lilly snapped, the doctor shouting the same thing in the other Monstrumologist's face.  
"Yes," Will lied.  
Lilly rolled her eyes.  
Suddenly, there was a smack.  
Will automatically knew it was the Bulgarian man, because Dr. Warthrop had far too much self control to outright smack the other man (even if he wanted to).  
The doctor, of course, barely flinched; though this was enough to spark a riot about the table of men. Fists were flying, hair was pulled, clothes were torn; and in the middle of it was were an irritated Warthrop and flustered von Helrung. Will felt a tug, and was pulled out of the way as a slender Italian man crashed into the very chair he had been sitting in. Lilly, who looked even more irate than the doctor, pulled Will out of the room and into an empty hallway.  
"I wanted to bring you somewhere special, but you haven't been paying attention. So here will have to do."  
Will was about to question what she meant, but before he could even form the words, Lilly's mouth had smashed against his.  
Simultaneously his face turned red, his body locked, and he felt the most awkward rush of hot and cold that had ever hit him. Lilly pulled away, smiling, and Will felt his body hit the wall.  
"You weren't lying when you said you've never kissed a girl!" Lilly giggled.  
Will couldn't even form a response. He just stood there, his heart pounding in his ears. A strong hand on his shoulder made him jump.  
"What the devil is wrong with you?" asked the doctor.  
"Oh, the fight upset him, so I brought him out here." Lilly said smoothly.  
Pellinore rolled his eyes. "You've faced worse than that, Will Henry. Now come along."  
The Monstrumologist pulled him back into the meeting room. Will looked back at Lilly.  
She was still smiling.

In Which Will Henry Names Some Kittens

In the four (dreadful) months Will Henry was abandoned by Warthrop in New York, his routine was rarely broken. But one day he was jerked on the arm by the most persistent young lady on earth at the time: Lilly Bates.  
“Would you walk with me to school?” she asked, surprisingly polite in the fact not a note of teasing nor bossiness was in her tone. In fact, she sounded rather... serious.  
“Don't you walk with Reggie?” Will Henry asked, bemused.  
“Yes, but he's sick and staying home today. Didn't you notice?”  
Will Henry frowned. No, he actually hadn't, even though with the tight schedule the Bates household ran on, it would have been hard not to.  
Lilly laughed. “You're such a stupid boy! Now walk me to school.”  
She tugged him up out of the overstuffed chair. It normally belonged to Mr. Bates, who would probably scold Will if he saw. But it was 8am, and between all the irritating “Warthropian Withdrawal”, and irritating babying from Mrs. Bates, and irritating irritation from Lilly, Will had stopped caring.  
“Why do you want me to walk you so badly?”  
“I don't want to go alone. Who knows what might happen...”  
Will Henry would have laughed and called her bluff if her eyes hadn't been quite so sincere.  
“Alright, I'll come with you."  
“YES!” Lilly grinned.  
As much as she berated her mother for being so determined to have things go her way, Lilly Bates was no different.

Within half an hour, Will Henry found himself walking down 1st street with Lilly clinging to him. They almost looked like a proper couple, and because of this passersby cooed and grinned at them. Will's confusion was completely butchered by new feelings of humiliation.  
“OH, I must show you this!”  
Lilly unexpectedly tugged him towards a random shop, and his heart leaped in surprise. He was about to yell at her, but she quickly cut him off.  
“Look at how cute they are!”  
Will looked to where she was pointing. Behind the glass of the shop's main window, a basket of kittens sat. They looked to be just a random mixture of shorthair cats, tumbling over each other and pawing at invisible insects. Will found himself smiling.  
“Every week I come by here, they have a new litter,” Lilly explained, her face practically merging with the glass. “They sell so fast! I don't even know where they get them, but there are always new kittens to sell! I want to get one so badly, but Father is allergic...”  
As Lilly rambled on about the kittens, Will watched them play. One caught his eye in particular; a calico that seemed to be the runt of the litter. Instead of playing like the others, it had its front paws up on the side of the basket. Its green eyes almost looked like they were filled with longing.  
“William Henry! Are you even listening to me?”  
Will looked back at her. “Um... yes.”  
“Then what did I just say?”  
“You were saying your father is allergic to cats...”  
Lilly rolled her eyes. “You would have been right about a minute ago. Actually, I was talking about how I name the kittens in the window.”  
“Oh... you do?”  
“Yes! And since this is a new litter, you can name them with me.”  
“But won't the people who buy them give them different names?”  
Lilly shook her head.  
“Doesn't matter. I like to name them regardless. For example, that one there is now Mildred,” she pointed to a black kitten with white paws. “And that red one over there? He is now Albert.”  
Will Henry looked back into the shop, and decided to humor her. “He looks more like an Augustus to me.”  
“Nonsense! His name is Albert. Name some other one Augustus.”  
Will looked around. “Fine. That grey one is Augustus.”  
Lilly nodded. “And the white one is Elizabeth! Now what about that strange one? The one at the end of the basket? I think he looks like a Jacob.”  
Will looked at the calico.  
“I think his name should be Will.”  
Lilly was practically offended. “But that's your name!”  
“So?”  
“So, give him a different one!”  
“I want to name him Will.”  
“Fine. He is William James Henry; a silly, stupid boy who is very bad at naming kittens!”  
No, Will Henry thought. He is a very sad boy who is trapped where he doesn't belong.

In Which Von Helrung Asks About Birthdays

“Mein Fruend, when is Will Henry's birthday?”  
Pellinore was completely caught off guard by the question, and as out of character as it was all he could reply with was a confused little “Pardon?”.  
“Don't you know what I mean, Pellinore? The day he was born! He has never brought it up to me, but I want to be able to send him something nice. Ach, don't tell me you don't know when his birthday is!”  
“I know it.” Pellinore said. "I was there," he added mentally.  
“When is it, then?”  
“December 2nd.”  
“Oh, you should bring him over then! We could throw him a party!” von Helrung giggled like a child at the thought. “Wouldn't that be wonderful?”  
“I don't know if he would like that. Will Henry is very...” Pellinore hunted for a word, but nothing came to mind.  
Von Helrung sighed. “I know you need him to grow up fast, Mein Fruend, but at least let the boy savor it! He'd love to have a birthday party, I'm sure! We did them for you! Remember the one we had when you turned 30? Everyone celebrates the Magic 30, but surely you enjoyed yours!”  
“Yes, of course I did. But we almost destroyed Boston! And John shoved cake down my pants. Three times.”  
Von Helrung laughed. “See! Good memories, ja?”  
“That is not the case anymore, von Helrung. It hurts to remember when the people involved in said memories are dead; and I fear a party will just make him long for his parents. And he'll... well, he'll become upset. He has never asked for a birthday party anyway, let alone a present. I don't think he cares.”  
“I do not think it's apathy or pain so much as you, Pellinore...” von Helrung said honestly.  
“What do you mean?” Pellinore asked.  
“Well, you... you are not a man who would let something like that happen, let alone plan it... basically, he probably is aware you would say no, so he never bothers to ask.”  
“That's nonsense! He doesn't because he... well, DOES NOT!”  
“That doesn't even make any sense!” von Helrung cried in exasperation. “Doesn't one with dead loved ones want to remember them!? Is that not healthy and important!?”  
Pellinore threw up his hands. “I don't know! I'm a Monstrumologist, not a psychologist! All I'm saying is that if it's painful for me to think about, it would be painful for him, and that is why he never asks!”  
“Nein, he never asks because he knows you would reject him!”  
The two men argued for a few minutes, before von Helrung held up a shaking hand.  
“Pellinore, Mein stur Freund, listen to me! Does it not make you happy to remember John shoving cake down your pants?”  
The question was so bizarre and sudden that Pellinore had to suppress a laugh. “Why would it?! He was making fun of me! Besides, the cake was abnormally cold and having cold cake in your pants isn't exactly the best feeling.”  
For some reason, he found himself repressing another laugh.  
“Yes, that may be so, but you did get good revenge. You shoved his whole face into the cake.”  
Now Pellinore laughed. “Yes... he was very angry about that, as I recall.”  
Von Helrung took one of Pellinore's hands between his. “See? It is good to remember. It does not cause pain, it eases pain.”  
Pellinore sighed. He would not admit it, but von Helrung was right.  
Satisfied with himself, von Helrung went over to his plan book and wrote “WILLIAM'S BIRTHDAY” in very large script over December second.  
At that moment, Will Henry stepped in, and was shocked as the two older men yelled his name in unison.  
“Would you like a party for your birthday, Mein Fruend Will? We will sing, dance, and I will make sure you are showered with gifts! I will also hire the best baker in all of New York City to make you any cake you desire! What do you think?”  
Will frowned. “Sorry, Miester Abram, but... I'm afraid a party would just remind me of what I've lost. I'd prefer to just turn 14 and be done with it...”  
“I TOLD YOU!” Pellinore shouted, whipping around to face his old master.  
Will quickly fled as they began to argue again.

In Which Pellinore and John Are Greedy Buffoons 

There were many shady clubs in New York, even in 1872. One was called The Sherry Shack, a direct reference to its main export: alcohol. A few Monstrumologists were there for one's Magic 30, and since Pellinore barely knew the man and didn't really care for the heavy drinking and prostitutes, he wanted to sneak away. First, however, he had to find John. He scoured the building. Eventually, he found his way down to a basement, where cigar smoke hung heavy in the air and tired looking men sipped whiskey directly from bottles. There were several game tables set up. However, most of the activity seemed to centered towards the back of the room. Curious, Pellinore walked over and shoved himself through the cheering crowd. At the center of them was a man dealing out cards, a huge stack of coins, and John Chanler.  
“John, what are you doing?!” Pellinore cried.  
“Ah, Pell! C'mere!”  
John yanked Pellinore to the table and forced him into a chair, then turned back to the game. Set up in front of him were two rows of five cards, the top row turned over.  
“Hmm...” John pushed a green card out of the bottom row. “Draw.”  
The dealer nodded and took the card, replacing it with a white one.  
“Yes! Two pairs!” John laughed.  
“What the devil are you doing?”  
“Gambling, Pellie-poo!”  
“What!?” he started to panic. “ John, how much money did you lose?!”  
“Well... I started off with 30 gold coins...”  
“Oh, lovely. I bet you're close to broke now!”  
“Actually, now I have 2,506.”  
Pellinore's face flushed. “...You're joking.”  
“Nope! It took me a while, but I managed.”  
The dealer had flipped over the top row of cards.  
“One pair vs. two. 15 coins to Chanler.”  
John whooped, and the man pushed over a stack of ten coins.  
“John has made his way back to 20 wins!” cried a woman at the table. “How much are you betting next?”  
“Just 5,” John said. He turned back to Pellinore. “You always bet a small set amount in this. More winnings that way.”  
"What game is this anyway?" Pellinore asked.  
John gave a long winded explanation that involved many terms Pellinore couldn’t comprehend. Gambling wasn’t his forte.  
John drew a card, ending up with two pairs. The dealer then flipped his own over- he had a set of three.  
“Chanler loses five.”  
John cursed under his breath.  
“How is a set of three better than two pairs?” Pellinore asked.  
“Because life is shit, Pell.”  
The dealer set out ten new cards.  
“Pell, can you cover for me? I have to go to the bathroom.”  
“I... what?! I barely get this game! Besides, I don't like gambling-”  
“Oh shut your trap, it'll only be for a few minutes.”  
John got up and stretched, then walked away, whistling casually.  
Pellinore just sat there awkwardly before the woman waved him on.  
He looked at her quizzically. “So... how does one lose a win?”  
The woman showed him a chart. “Each time you win, you get a win. But each time you lose, you lose that win. Right now John has 19. But if you lose all your wins, you lose all your money. So watch yourself.”  
Pellinore nodded dumbly and stared at the cards in front of him. He had a set of three yellow ones. He drew the mismatched two, and just ended up with another pair of two different colored cards. He sighed. Gambling was a mess of pointlessness.  
“How much you bettin'?”  
“Five,” Pellinore said, taking John's advice.  
The dealer snorted. “You a pusillanimous too, eh?”  
He then flipped over his own cards. He had one pair.  
“30 to Pell.”  
Before Pellinore could react, 30 more coins were put in front of him. Plus the five he still had, the coins currently amounted to 2,546. He felt a sense of accomplishment.

For several minutes, Pellinore was on top of the world. He had a bunch of drunkards and prostitutes cheering him on- one even sat herself on his lap. He was on one hell of a winning streak, he hadn't lost one deal. Everyone was impressed by this but the dealer, who was convinced the young man was cheating. Finally, John came back, taking back his own seat and winking at the woman sitting with Pell.  
“What took you so long?” Pellinore asked as he drew three cards.  
“Oh, nothing... well, actually a lot. I tried the bathroom on the first floor but the toilet flushed by itself. By itself, I swear it! So I went to the one on the second floor, and wouldn't you know it, there was a man getting head by the head! I told them 'Get a room!' and the man replied, 'This is a room!'. He kind of had me beat there, so I had to go back down to the haunted bathroom. Luckily, the toilet didn't try any of its tomfoolery this time. I suppose my urine tamed it.”  
“...John, you're drunk.”  
“Pellinore, you're sober!”  
Pellinore won the deal.  
“That's 36 wins for Pell!” the woman counting wins cried. “Total amount of 3,000.”  
John whipped his head around, shocked.  
“Jesus, Mary and Joseph, how’d you get so many wins?!”  
“I honestly don't know, I guess I'm just lucky.”  
“Luckiest man in the place!” the prostitute said, wrapping her arms around him.  
“Heh, yes...” Pellinore said, gently shoving them away.  
John groaned. “You can't win that many times! The dealer will think you're cheating!”  
“So?”  
“So? SO?! Pellinore, I may not be the sharpest man, but even I know that's trouble. In a shady place like this, we could get murdered quick, and it would take the police weeks to find our bodies! And damn, could you imagine how my dear old mother would react to hearing her little Johnny boy was shot clean through the head and dumped on top of slum shit and garbage? Why, she'd turn into Mary Todd Lincoln within a day!”  
“Or she'd just get melancholy. Let's be realistic here, John. They aren't going to murder us, because I am not cheating. They have no proof of it, anyway!”  
“Oh, trust me, they don't care about that. Let's go.”  
John pulled out a bag and frantically started to push coins into it, while everyone stared at him in bemusement.  
“What are you doing?” asked the prostitute in Pellinore's lap. “You can go for a few more hands.”  
“Yes, she's right. You have 36 wins, you're clear for whatever comes your way!” agreed a random man.  
“But I'd like to cut off my luck before it becomes short by itself,” John grunted as he tried to lift the bag. “Pell, help me with this. It weighs half a ton.”  
A disappointed Pellinore urged the prostitute off of him, then picked up one end of the bag. John was right, it was extremely heavy.  
“Where d'ya think you're going!?” the dealer asked.  
“Home, preferably,” said John.  
And of course, the man pulled out a gun.  
Everyone jumped back, a few running upstairs. Pellinore heard nothing but his pounding heart.  
“You can leave. But not with the money. You two think you're so smart. You been cheatin' all night! That's the only way you could get so much money. Johnny was smart, he lost a few rounds on purpose. But Pell, you slipped up. You couldn't take the thought of losin', so you went on a streak!”  
If Pellinore wasn't so frightened, he may have been insulted. “We-”  
The man fired a shot into the air. “Put down the money!”  
Pellinore jumped and almost put down the bag, but John had other plans. The sudden burst of adrenaline granted him the strength to carry the bag by himself, so he grabbed it and ran, pulling a shocked Pellinore with him. The man pursued.  
They dodged past the upstairs patrons; a few Monstrumologists gave them looks, and a few women giggled at the sight of two cute young men taking money from a gun wielding maniac.

Outside, many people were walking about even at that hour, so the boys were able to lose the man in the crowd. They walked another block before putting down the money. And as all people who evade death do, they laughed hysterically for a solid minute, only dying down when they started to get strange looks from nearby people.  
“So...” John panted.  
“So...” Pellinore breathed.  
“We sure pissed on that guy, didn't we?”  
Pellinore chuckled. “Yes.”  
“Wait till his boss hears he had all his money stolen by a couple of 'cheating' brats!”  
“He'll probably get murdered and dumped in the garbage of the slums.”  
John nodded. “I'm going to go hail us a coach. Can you defend the gold?”  
“With my life!” Pellinore grinned.  
The two boys saluted each other, and John walked to the edge of the sidewalk.  
Pellinore looked up at the dark sky, lazy daydreaming thoughts filling his head.  
A small jingle tossed him back to reality. He looked down to see several dirty children trying to take the bag, making comical expressions of strain as they attempted to lift it.  
“Hey!” Pellinore cried.  
Instead of looking up, the children just worked more quickly. Before Pellinore could make a move, they had to bag and were running away with it. One child lagged behind and kicked Pellinore in the shin, not out of contempt so much as to keep him from coming after them.  
Pellinore cried out and grabbed his leg, stumbling back over to John, who had heard nothing of the excursion.  
“Can you believe it, Pell!? We're rich!”  
“Some street urchins just took all our gold, John!”  
“...We're poor!”  
“What are we going to do?!”  
“I guess we'll let them... I mean, they could spend it more reasonably than I would. You know; on food, clothing, shelter... I was going to use it to purchase a solid gold steam ship, a white tiger, and for you, Muriel Barnes' heart.”  
Pellinore rolled his eyes. “We're already in a relationship, John.”  
“Doesn't mean you have her heart! But I can get it for you, even without money. Maybe put it in a jar and stick it on your desk?”

Pellinore kicked his friend in the shin.


End file.
